I was here first.’
He barked out a laugh. ‘You’re calling dibs on my house?’
‘It’s a perfectly valid negotiating technique.’
He considered her for a moment and she shifted in her chair, straightening her back in readiness for his next move.
‘Do you cook?’
What the hell?
‘Not unless you count microwaving ready meals or sloshing milk over cereal.’
Connor raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t.’
She crossed her arms. ‘Then, no, I don’t cook.’
Connor gave her a questioning look and she flushed under his scrutiny.
She shrugged, fighting the heat of her discomfort. ‘My job’s demanding. The last thing I want to do when I get in is cook.’
‘Really? I find it relaxing.’
His eyes searched her face and her skin heated in response.
‘What do you do to relax?’
There was a hint of reproach in his expression as his gaze locked with hers. She shifted in her chair, looking away from him. Why was he making her feel so uncomfortable? She had nothing to be ashamed about.
‘I go to the gym sometimes.’ She racked her brain, trying to find something to impress him with, but nothing came to mind.
Connor shook his head slowly, radiating disapproval, but his expression softened as he leant in closer to her. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted in response and her heart pummelled her chest as his gaze roved her face before dropping to her lips.
‘I’m sure we can think of some way to work this out.’
His voice was low and the double meaning was not lost on her. He stood suddenly, pushing his chair away from the table and grabbing their plates, turning to dump them next to the sink. He stilled, staring down at the counter, before turning back. There was a challenge in his expression now.
‘You can cut my hair.’
Josie blinked at him in surprise, her body a tangle of confusion and lust. What was he doing to her? The mixture of forceful self-confidence and provocative teasing was disorientating her, turning her insides to mulch and her brain to jelly.
‘Did you say you want me to cut your hair?’
‘Yes.’
She gave him a stunned smile. ‘What’s wrong with going to a hairdresser?’
‘A waste of money. Anyway, I’m not losing a morning driving to Aix just to get a haircut. I’m sick of it hanging in my face—you just need to chop a couple of inches off all round. Then I’ll be ready to face the world.’
Relaxing her arms, she dropped her hands into her lap and tapped her fingers together. ‘If I do it will you let me have the house?’
He shrugged. ‘Depends on how good a job you do.’
She snorted. ‘What if I make a mess of it?’
‘I’m trusting you not to. Come on, Josie, it’s not rocket science. You know the general principle, right? Look, I can’t get my fingers in those piddly little nail scissors, and the only other sharp things I have in this house are the kitchen knives and the garden shears.’
‘I may end up needing those. It looks like you’ve been washing your hair with engine oil.’
That tantalising smile played about his lips again and her stomach flipped over.
‘Yeah, well, it’s tough finding a power shower in the middle of a rainforest.’
He flicked his hair out of his eyes with those long, strong-looking fingers and her hands did a nervous sort of skitter in her lap. What would it feel like to be in such close proximity to that powerful frame and all that hard muscle? Blood rushed straight between her legs, causing a hard ache there, and before she could stop herself she rocked forward in the chair to try and relieve the pressure.
Clearing her throat to dislodge the strangling tension, she tore her gaze away from him to scan the kitchen cupboards, the dresser, the patio doors—anywhere but his irresistible body—while her heart thumped against her chest. She needed to stand up and move around before she started rutting the chair. What the hell was going on with her crazy body?
‘So where are these scissors, then?’
He was smiling when she looked back at him and the victory on his face made her frown. How had he managed to talk her into this? But then what the hell? If that was what it took to get rid of him, so be it. She’d never been one to walk away from a challenge. She’d also never cut hair in her life. Still, it wasn’t her problem if he ended up looking as if a child had got busy with the scissors while he was asleep. Maybe she should make a mess of it just to pay him back for that supercilious expression.
Despite being rather taken with the idea, she knew she wouldn’t. She was too much of a good girl, and she wanted him gone.
‘They’re in the middle drawer of the dresser,’ he said, nodding towards the grand piece of furniture at the back of the kitchen.
‘Okay. You get them and I’ll grab a towel.’
He gave her a quizzical look, but there was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. ‘You want me in just a towel for this?’
From his expression she guessed he was quite taken with the idea, and her insides twisted in a strange, excited sort of way.
‘That won’t be necessary. It’s to keep the hair off your clothes,’ she said through oddly numb lips.
‘You’re the boss,’ he said, getting up and striding over to the dresser.
She legged it out of the kitchen and up the stairs, taking her time to find the oldest-looking towel out of the linen cupboard and sucking in deep breaths until she felt composed enough to be in the same room with him again. At least he’d be leaving after this, she told herself, ignoring a niggle of disappointment that came out of nowhere. She needed alone time right now.
Right?
Returning to the kitchen, she found he’d dragged a chair into the middle of the floor and was seated, waiting patiently for her to get back.
‘Not too much off the top,’ he said as she approached him and laid the towel gently over his wide shoulders.
It wasn’t long enough to meet across his chest and after a moment of fussing with it she left it to hang there.
God, the size of him.
She wasn’t going to have to bend down far to get on a level with his head. Nerves jumping, she picked up the scissors and tentatively ran her hands through his mop of hair, gauging the best place to start.
He groaned gently in response and she almost jumped away
